


Memento Mori

by TwinEnigma



Series: In Memoriam Verse [11]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Everything Hurts, Family, Future Fic, GFY, Gen, Implied Terminal Illness, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Next Generation, References to Illness, chakra has a price
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7051261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinEnigma/pseuds/TwinEnigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forty-two years ago, Naruto stood here, watching her sleep with their newborn daughter in her arms. And now, here he stands again, only to know he must soon say goodbye. An aging Naruto speaks to his daughter on the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memento Mori

**Author's Note:**

> "Remember that you, too, must die."

            Naruto watches Sakura from the doorway, as he has done for many years.

            Sakura sits in her bed in the sunlight, her thinning white hair hidden under a colorful scarf, and reads.  The glasses that perch on her nose are pink-framed, a chain of little rose and gold beads running from the ends to make a simple loop, and the lenses glint with the light where the bifocals cut through the glass.  Over her shoulders, she wears a pink knitted shawl that he’d given her decades ago.  It hides little of how thin she’s become in these past few months.  The wrinkles he’s become so accustomed to seeing have deepened and she looks tired.  Next to her, the heart monitor pulses softly and the IV slowly drips saline into her arm, but Sakura does not appear to notice.  Her attention is completely on her book and she smiles as she turns the page.

            It is strange, he thinks.  Forty-two years ago, he stood here, watching her sleep with their newborn daughter in her arms.  And now, here he stands again, only to know he must soon say goodbye.

            “Dad?” his daughter says quietly, approaching from his blind side.  “I came as quick as I could.  What’s going on?  Is mom ok?”

            His daughter, Hana, has grown into a fine woman.  She has her mother’s eyes and temperament, framed in wild orange hair; he thinks, perhaps, that Hana gets her figure from his mother, rather than Sakura, and he has always thought it would make his mother happy if she knew. In one eye, he sees Hana still as a little girl in a stained and ripped sundress, with leaves in her hair and bruised knuckles from punching little boys that called her girly.  In the other, he sees her has she is: a retired ninja turned housewife, an adult with a family of her own.  Always, she is his daughter.

            “Your mother’s fine,” Naruto lies to her.  “I wanted to talk to you in private.  It’s important.”

            Hana nods, her face drawn with concern, and follows him back down the hallway to the kitchen.

            “Would you like some tea?” he asks, reaching for the kettle and teapot.  The teapot is Sakura’s, the blossoming tree that is her namesake on the side; it was a wedding gift – from Hinata, he thinks.  Beside him, his daughter takes down two of the matching teacups, a branch full of blossoms on each one.  He puts the kettle on and they sit.

            “Mom’s taking a turn for the worse, isn’t she?” Hana asks quietly.

            Naruto doesn’t answer.  Instead, he considers the liver spots on his own wrinkled hands and focuses on the reason he asked his daughter here.  “Do you remember that talk we had when you finished at the Academy, about who I am and what that meant for you?”

            Hana’s eyes narrow as she leans back in her chair and thinks.  After a moment, she answers: “Yeah, a little.  I remember you saying that the Kyuubi needs to be sealed and if anything happened to you, I’d need to be prepared.  What’s this got to do with mom?”

            Naruto sighs, pressing his fingers into a steeple.  There is no easy way to say what he’s planning to say.  “Hana, I didn’t call you here to talk about your mother.  I called you here to talk about who will be the next host for the Kyuubi.”

            “What?” Hana asks, staring at him in surprise.

            Naruto leans back in his chair.  “I’ve been thinking about it, ever since your mother...” he trails off, grimacing, and adds, “I’m getting old, Hana.  I’m not going to be around forever.  We need to discuss what’s going to happen to the Kyuubi.”

            “But dad,” Hana pauses, her face drawn in clear confusion and worry.  “What’s wrong?  Are you sick or something?”

            “No, no,” Naruto says, shaking his head, “Nothing like that.  It’s just that... I want to know it’s been taken care of before I go.”

            The look on his daughter’s face reminds him of Sakura’s when he says something she doesn’t quite believe but is willing to hear him out, if only for the sake of argument.

            “If I die with him still inside me, he’ll disappear for a while, but then he _will_ come back and we won’t be able to predict where.  Worst case scenario, he could land right on us and destroy the whole village. Or he returns nowhere near us, the other nations will leap at the chance to get their hands on him and the wars will start all over again,” Naruto explains firmly, falling back on the old familiar lie.  Even now, the fox's secrets remain unspoken. “I think the best thing would be to seal the Kyuubi into a new host as soon as possible, while I’m still strong enough to handle it if anything goes wrong.”

            It’s something he’s given a lot of thought to lately and he’s agonized over how to broach the subject and what his daughter’s reaction will be.

            Hana’s hands pull into fists, her knuckles white as she stares at the tabletop and tersely growls out, “You’re talking about suicide, dad.”

            “Not necessarily,” Naruto sighs, drawing his hands up and clasping them.  He leans his head forward, lips barely pressed against his thumbs for moment.  “The Uzumaki clan was known for its longevity and vitality.  We live long lives, normally.  Because of this, my mother was able to survive having the Kyuubi taken from her.”

            “She was young, with a seal _weakened_ from childbirth, dad,” Hana says acidly.  “I know the story.  She wasn’t your age and she was still dying.”

            Naruto looks away, twisting his hands so that they clasped each other, and sighs deeply.  “We’re _all_ dying, Hana.  But I’ve given this a lot of thought.  If I do it right and pull in enough natural chakra to balance the drain, I’ll possibly be able to enjoy as many as a couple more months, if not a year, after the sealing.”

            Hana shakes her head in denial, sighing.

            “I know you don’t want to hear this,” he says sternly.  “But this isn’t just about me.  It’s about protecting you and your children, this village and everyone in it.  I’m an old man.  I’ve lived a good life, longer than I could hope for, and I want you to be safe, Hana.  This is _my_ decision to make.  It’s what I want.  I’ve already briefed both Konohamaru and the Eighth on the situation.”

            “You -?” Hana glares, standing in a flash, her temper flaring just like Sakura’s. “I can’t believe you, dad!  You’ve already decided to go through with this?  And you didn’t even talk to me first?  Does _mom_ know?”

            “No, she doesn’t,” Naruto states, seriously.  “And I don’t want her to know.”

            Sakura is in enough pain as it is.  He wants her to enjoy what little time she has left and it would absolutely break her heart if she knew what he was planning to do.

            “I’m going to wait,” he pauses, the next words like leaden ash on his tongue.  “Once your mother passes, then... _that’s_ when I’ll reseal the Kyuubi.”

            Hana stares at him, her eyes stormy when he raises his eyes to meet hers, and slowly she sinks into her chair in realization, as if suddenly drained.

            She knows.

            Sakura is the backbone of his universe.  She’s been his teammate, his lover, his wife, the mother of his child and his dearest friend.  She’s laughed and danced with him at weddings and countless Matsuri festivals.  She’s always been by his side when they’ve had to bury good friends; they’ve lost so many in these long years.  Without her, he’s hopeless; she’s always joking that if she dies, he’ll go back to eating cup ramen and sour milk.  It’s not true, but it feels like it will be, because he just doesn’t know what to do without her anymore.  Nothing will ever quite be the same without her.  Oh, he’ll try to hold on for the sake of his daughter and grandchildren, but he knows he won’t last long, not with such a huge part of his life gone, so many of his friends dead and his own growing infirmity.

            One day, someday soon, Sakura will die and he will soon follow.  Better, then, that he enters death on his own terms, as a father and as a kage.

            The kettle whistles, piercing the silence.

            Naruto stands, pours the water into the teapot, fixes the spindly little tea strainer into it and places it on the table.  He places the teacups down, one in front of his daughter and one at his place, before sinking back into his chair.

            They sit across from each other, completely silent.

            “Who are the candidates?” Hana asks at last, her voice wavering.

            Naruto looks down at the empty teacup.  “Candidates are traditionally chosen from the family members of the kage.”

            Hana’s hands clench the table.  “Dad,” she whispers, “please don’t tell me my children are being considered.”

            Naruto doesn’t look up.  

            She shakes her head, drawing her hands into fists.  “Which one?”

            He doesn’t answer, not right away.  The admission he’s about to make cuts him to his very core.

            “Dad, _which one?_ ” Hana demands.

            “Minoru,” he says.

            The youngest of all the candidates and his only grandson, may the Sage forgive him.

            “But, he’s just a child...” she protests.  “What’s wrong with the others? Why can’t one of them take it?”

            Naruto sighs, leaning back in his chair.  “The Kimagazaki kekkei genkai isn’t compatible.  And, while the Sarutobi candidate is a good kid, we Uzumaki carry a special chakra that makes us better suited to be hosts.  This is why the last two hosts came from the Uzumaki clan and the reason you were asked to be prepared to take my place, instead of the Yuhi child.”

            Hana pales.

            “There are other reasons,” Naruto continues, not looking his daughter in the eye.  “Neither of your daughters is suited: Tsubaki’s personality is too unstable and Hasuka wants to be a medic.  On the other hand, Minoru’s young enough to adapt his style and I think he’s got the right mindset to handle it.  He reminds me a little of myself, when I was that age.”

            The laugh his daughter makes is somewhere between a snort of disbelief and hysterical sob.

            “He’s a good kid and I think he’ll make a good Hokage someday,” Naruto says and means it.  When he looks at Minoru, he remembers the Third and Konohamaru, and that all Konohamaru needed was to be shown what being the Hokage really meant.  It is the same with his grandson.  “He just needs a push in the right direction.”

            “Dad, there are _easier_ ways to do that than to seal a tailed beast in him,” Hana manages, shakily.  “It’s not right.  It’s not.  He _worships_ you and you’re asking to have him help kill you!”

            Naruto reaches forward and grabs his daughter’s hands.  “Hana, listen to me.  I love you and I love your children.  You all are the greatest joy an old man like me could have.  But if I die with the Kyuubi still inside me, I would be putting you and this entire village in danger.  I can’t bear to do that, _I can’t_. When I became Hokage and married your mother, I promised to protect our family and this village to my dying breath.”

            He pauses, licking his dry lips.  “I haven’t got much time left.  The techniques I used in the war... that last fight – it did a lot of damage.  I didn’t want you to worry about it, not with your mother so sick, but in a few years, the damage will affect me more noticeably.  And if something goes wrong attempting to reseal the Kyuubi, I might not be able to stop it.”

            Hana’s lip quivers and for a moment, he sees her mother in every feature of her face.  She’s strong, so strong, but there is only so much that Sakura could take before she began to cry and Hana is just the same.

            “Your mother is dying, Hana,” he admits, and it aches to hear it from his own lips.  “She’s... your mother is...  I’ve just lost so much, Hana, so much, and losing her...”

            He pauses, shaking his head to hide the tears.  “I don’t think I’ll want to keep fighting the damage without her.”

            Hana sobs openly, big hiccuping gasps of air, and he just holds on to her hands, trying like hell not to weep himself.

            It is the first time since the diagnosis that he’s admitted out loud that Sakura will not survive.  He didn’t want to acknowledge it, much as he’s never liked admitting just how badly the war affected him.  It hurts, it hurts so badly, but at least the words are out in the open now.

            Hana’s sobs peter off into hiccups and he lets go.

            The tea sits next to them, growing cold.

            “I won’t force Minoru to do this, Hana,” Naruto says, somberly.  “I’ll explain everything to him and he’ll only remain a candidate if he agrees to it.  I’ll try to give him every chance to back out that I can, but once it’s done, it’s done.  There’s no going back.”

            She nods jerkily, wiping the tears from her face, and gives him a watery smile: “Rinji’s not going to like this.”

            Naruto smiles a little.  “No, I don’t suppose he will.”

            His daughter’s husband, Sasuke’s long ago orphaned boy, who patiently worked his way into Hana’s heart.   Naruto remembers a time when she called him an annoying sissy and wouldn’t have given him the time of day – it was funny how that all turned out.  He’s a good man, Naruto thinks, and Hana is lucky to have him.  She’ll need his strength to get through this.

            “And it won’t be for a while, right?” Hana asks, shakily.

            Naruto answers: “I won’t do it while your mother’s still alive.”

            She nods.  “What can I do to help, dad?”

            “Bring the children by, sometime,” he says, smiling a little.  “Sakura loves seeing them – especially Hasuka.  She says she reminds her of you when you where that age.”

            Hana bristles.  “Oi!  I wasn’t like that!”

            “Of course not,” Naruto teases, “You were _worse_.”

            His daughter harrumphs, glaring at the teapot, and then suddenly snatches it.  “The tea’s gone cold.”

            “Ah, yes,” he sighs, running his thumb over the painted branch on his empty teacup.  “I’ll take care of it.”

            “I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Hana says, standing as she picks up the teapot and slides towards the counter.  She brushes away her tears with one hand and adds, “Why don’t you go and check on mom?”

            “Try not to explode the teapot,” he chides her, and slides out of his chair, hip creaking dangerously.  “It was a wedding gift from a dear friend.”

            One of many friends now gone, he thinks, hardly listening as his daughter swears she won’t and pours the tea off into microwaveable novelty mugs.

            The hallway stretches before him, the memory of his daughter as a child racing ahead of him like a phantom, and he again approaches the room he has shared with his wife for forty-three years.

            Sakura is standing at the window, one hand on the glass and the sunlight bathing her in a halo of brilliant light.  The other hand rests on the wheeled IV/heart monitor stand that follows her everywhere.  She turns, looking back at him and smiles a little.

            Naruto thinks she is still the most beautiful woman in the world.

            She turns her head, smiling at him.  “Was that Hana I heard?”

            “Ah, yeah,” he replies, stepping into the room and approaching her.  His robes whisper across the floor like a ghost.  “She was thinking about bringing the kids over soon, if you were feeling up to it.”

            Sakura laughs, the wrinkles tugging at the corner of her eyes and mouth.  “Don’t be silly!  Of course I am.  I miss them.”

            “I think they miss you, too,” he says, honestly, and brushes a stray strand of once-pink hair out of her eyes. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

            Sakura looks up at him, her eyes searching his face, and raises a hand to caress his cheek.  “Oh, Naruto...” she sighs, a sad little smile on her lips.  “I worry about what will happen to you when I’m gone.  Promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.”

            For a moment, he wonders if she’s overheard them, but she says nothing else.

            “I promise,” he lies.

            She smiles and pats his arm gently.  “Good, good.  For a moment, I was worried I’d have to haunt you.”

            Naruto makes a sour face.  “That’s not funny.”

            Sakura looks back out the window, at the clouds and the blossoming trees that are her namesake.  The wind shifts, sending thousands of the pale pink blossoms flying into the sky.  “So many of us are gone now, like flowers in the wind,” she observes, placing her hand against the glass.  “We’ve had a good run, haven’t we, Naruto?  Better than most, I should think.”

            He places his arm around her shoulder, staring at the ghostly reflection of them in the glass – an old man and a dying old woman, where there once was a young man and his blushing young bride.  He closes his eyes, turning, and kisses her on her always-charming forehead.

            “Yes,” he agrees.  “I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.”

            She leans into him, smiling as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  “I’m glad.”

            Outside, the blossoms continue to fall.


End file.
